The Times In Between
by Tripp3235
Summary: Inspired to write those moments that the writers do not show us on screen.  Mary/Matthew.  New chapter set at a possible ball that would have taken place in between episodes 3 & 4.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Missing Moments  
>Author: Tripp3235<br>Pairing: **Mary/Matthew  
><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>I do not own any of these characters.  
><strong>Timing: <strong>This takes place between episode 3 and 4

**Summary: **Mary runs into Matthew at the grave.

**Notes:** A series of random chapters to help fill in the gaps between episodes. This may the only chapter, there may be a dozen more. When Mary runs into Matthew at the fair, she's direct with him on how she feels. I felt another scene could explain why it's so easy for her to do so. I hope you enjoy it.

Mary stood in front of Patrick's gravestone. According to the dates, it had been over a year since his and his father's death, victims of the sinking of the _Titanic_. She'd thought little of them over the past year, except in relation to how their deaths now affected the estate and her rightful inheritance. She certainly didn't visit the graves, though some might think her heartless if they had known Patrick had been her unofficial fiancée. But now, things were different. Mary viewed everything differently.

It had been ten days since Pamuk's death, his death in her bed. A direct consequence from their ill-fated night of passion. Mary shuddered at the memory. When she first met the handsome Turk, she was smitten, almost bewitched. Why do such men have an effect on her? She was just as smitten when the Duke had visited last year. He talked her into invading the servants' quarters, dismissing her guilt with his insistence that it was her God given right. When Mr. Bates caught them up there, she was horrified. The excitement of the moment immediately dissipated and was replaced with shame. She vowed to never go against her own judgment again. Indeed, she wasn't going to let her parents dictate whom she could marry anymore; why should a man have the same control?

But just as soon as the Turk made his advances known, Mary's defenses crumbled. But this time, it wasn't simply invading the privacy of others. This time it was giving something up of hers. His handsome features and charms proved her downfall. She should have insisted he leave her bedroom immediately. She never invited him and she was within her rights to do so. But he talked her out of it. He talked her into going against her morals. He convinced her it was natural to indulge the pleasures of the flesh.

Mary blinked away tears at that, remembering no pleasure from the event itself, even before she realized Pamuk had died. She wondered if he had survived, what would have occurred immediately afterwards? Would he have held her in his arms with words of encouragement or would he had immediately dressed and walked out? Mary was confident it would have been the latter rather than the former, and perhaps she would have deserved such treatment too.

But his death changed everything. She'd never known anyone close to her to die suddenly. People who passed away before usually were of elderly or at least a mature enough age so it was expected. The only exception being James and Patrick, now laying before her in their graves. She remembered last year feeling numb and wondered what was wrong with her, that she couldn't even bother to conjure false tears over her cousin's death. Of course, she'd never been close to them, even after the engagement was settled. She remembered random visits when she was a little girl and, later, Patrick as her fiancée was declared as a matter of fact. Patrick seemed to avoid her when he visited and she was glad. Pushed in his company the conversation was stilted and she usually looked for any excuse to get away. He was better suited to Edith who did seem to care for him. Why couldn't she have been intended for him?

Now after having an intimate knowledge of death, she was looking at Patrick's grave differently. Unlike her unlucky lover, Patrick must have known he was going to die. They said the sinking took hours. Did he accept it or was he panicked? Did he regret the time he spent with her, with her family? She wished she had at least taken the time to say goodbye to him at the funeral the year before. The emptiness she felt last year was replaced with anxiety of her life. Now, she would be a tainted woman, if what happened ever got out. Not that it would. She knew her mother would never say anything, and Anna, her housemaid, had more integrity in her little finger than Mary had altogether.

Sighing, she said a small prayer, asking for God's forgiveness, not for Pamuk's death this time, but for her obtuse attitude about death up until now. She then turned, planning to walk away. But the person who appeared suddenly before her was the last person she expected to see.

"Matthew!" she exclaimed, more out of shock at his sudden arrival.

Her distant cousin looked as surprised as she did. "Cousin Mary, sorry…sorry to startle you. I didn't expect anyone to be standing here."

"No, I wouldn't think so." She regained her composure. What was he doing here? "This is an odd place for a walk?"

He blushed, and looked away. "Yes, that's not why I'm …well, I was here to visit your cousins' graves."

"James and Patrick?"

He nodded with a sheepish expression.

"But you didn't know them, or I had never thought you had even met…"

"We hadn't," he said. By now he had taken off his hat, and smoothed down his hair. "But I still come to pay my respects when I have time and am nearby."

Mary stood considering him. He looked embarrassed, unsure of himself. Usually when he was in her company, he stood confidently, proudly, and ready to battle her or anyone about his odd habits. At least what seemed odd to them. "I see. I'm surprised you would care."

Now his eyes met hers directly. "I do care, I…I feel obligated. It's because of their deaths that I am here. I…I hate that actually, I mean, their deaths. Your father spoke well of them and I feel sometimes guilty."

Mary was at a loss of what to say. Matthew was so different from any man, anyone actually, she had ever met. "I see."

"I suppose you think I'm being foolish and overly sentimental."

"No, not at all." Mary said quickly. "I…I find your natural ability to empathize extraordinary. You went out of your way last week to see me over Pamuk's death was really quite kind. I didn't understand why you did, but now I see, it's just in your character."

His eyes never faltered from hers. "You talk as if you were incapable of such an emotion."

"Haven't you realized by now that I'm heartless, Cousin Matthew?" She said with some bitterness. "I'm sure you've heard it by many, if not villagers, than surely my sister Edith has told you."

"I've not heard any such thing, but even if I had, I like to take my own views of people for myself."

This made her laugh, "So what was your opinion of me after I compared you to a sea monster?"

His smile was warm, "That you were upset given the circumstances, and I could understand."

"Could you really?" she asked. She'd always assumed he didn't care about her circumstances. Or the predicament the whole family was in.

He nodded, glancing down at Patrick's gravestone. Mary followed his gaze. Her cousin asked, "Was your opinion of Patrick a good one?"

Again, Mary felt the guilt well up inside of her. She knew she should answer in the affirmative, that it was the polite, proper thing to do. But this was Matthew, she didn't care what he thought of her, so a false face was not needed. "Actually, I didn't know him much at all. We spent as little time as possible together."

He didn't respond. Mary could feel his eyes were back on her. "You see, Cousin Matthew, we are different, you and I. You didn't know him, and already admitted to visiting this location already. This is my first time to return since the funeral, and he was my fiancée."

"Your fiancée." She heard him repeat. Why did she tell him that? He didn't have to know.

"Yes." She turned to look at him. She didn't know him well enough to know the expression he was giving her, but she could guess it was disapproval. What did it matter though? She and Matthew were not going to marry, not if she could help it. "It wasn't official. It was expected of us practically since we were born. Or at least, until my father realized he was not going to have a son."

Matthew looked away. "I see. I guess…"

Mary sighed. She waited for him to make the inevitable comment. Her mother warned her not to show this side of herself to others like she did with her family.

"I guess your life has been always outside of your control. I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? It's…it's my lot in life. Not yours." Did he really mean it?

Now his eyes were bearing into her. Those eyes were his greatest power and he was using it fully. "No, but these last few weeks I have learned what it feels like to have your life altered on a whole new path. My own… reaction to it has not been positive, as you yourself have seen. To take it to such a level that you've experienced your whole life, Cousin Mary, you don't deserve it. No one does."

Mary held his gaze longer than necessary. She thought of his behavior since arriving. He had made his intentions clear, while he was heir to the estate, he was not going to put off the life he had back in Manchester. The family had not been happy to hear this, and she herself had laughed it off referring to him as "very middle class." For once, Mary saw how wrong she and her family had been in trying to dissuade him.

"Oh I don't know, maybe there is something to it after all." Panuk came to her mind then, if she had followed the rules like she should have, then he would still be alive and her reputation unscarred.

"What do you mean?" Matthew asked.

Mary was tired and knew there was no use extending the conversation. She'd already said far too much as it was. "Nothing, don't listen to me. Most people don't anyway. It's getting late and I better be going. I hope you have a good remainder of the day, Cousin."

As she walked away, she heard Matthew reply, "Goodbye, Mary. Maybe tomorrow will be better for you."

She couldn't let the remark go. She glanced back at him as she was leaving, "Oh Matthew, my family wants me to not look at my life in days but in the following years, and plan accordingly." She didn't wait for his answer.


	2. Chapter 2

_Note: This is set between episodes 4 and 5. It seems likely during that period the family traveled to London which they were accustomed to. This would be Matthew's first summer as heir, and also very likely they invited him to come up. I have taken some liberties with Sybil's first ball which I believe should have been the next summer. Please forgive me on that. Also, I have been writing another chapter set before this one but had such inspiration in mind that I had to send this one first. I'm hoping no one will mind on that. _

The ball was in full orchestral swing. The music was excellent, the refreshments delicious, and the decorations were breath-taking. Mary's gaze could not find anything imperfect around, save for the sour face of her younger sister, Edith, whose complaints over not being asked to dance were constant.

"Honestly," Edith said, "just because you're being strangely unsocial does not mean I would refuse dancing."

Mary turned to her sister, feeling no sympathy for her less fortunate sibling, "Tonight is Sybil's night, her first ball is something to be championed and I'd rather stand back and watch her enjoy it. You could at least take some pleasure from it if you weren't so jealous of the lack of attentions paid to you."

"Oh please, Mary, don't act like your sudden aversion to dancing is for the benefit of our sister. But I'm not sure why she even had to come though. She's not out technically."

Mary shrugged, "Papa thought this would be good practice for Sybil and I agree. She's been rather sheltered compared to us, and the invitation did extend to her so there was no harm in it."

"I suppose so. But even if the attention is on her, it's hard to believe you would step back and let her have the fun. There are more than enough suitors to go around, even for the two of you."

Feeling wicked, Mary met her sister's eye. "But not for the three of us it seems."

Edith started to say something, but changing her mind, looked away. Mary tried to enjoy the victory she achieved in insulting her sister, but it was short lived. Looking over the room, Mary knew that Edith was right. She wasn't in the habit of standing idle during any kind of affair. Indeed, this London Ball was a highlight of the season, and Mary always reveled in such affairs.

But that was before life had changed forever. Mary's smile faded as her mind wandered to areas she wanted to forget, memories she wanted to put past her. Pamuk's death was still on her mind. And when she looked out over the faces, merrily dancing, she felt suspicious about these people. The men, approached her with smiles, smiles that reminded her of Pamuk's, and knowing what was on his mind the whole time she knew him, tainted her opinion of the handsome men approaching her now. She knew dancing was harmless and should be fun, but she felt no motivation to pursue it. She thought she wanted to come but now that she was here she wanted to be anywhere else.

As her eyes scanned the floor, they came to rest on a familiar body. Matthew Crawley was standing to the side, looking like he wished he was elsewhere too. Mary studied him. Though she'd seen him in a tuxedo before, he looked especially handsome tonight. Inviting him to London had been her father's idea, he needed to experience society in their circles in the big city. Mary didn't like that idea one bit. Matthew was not someone she was interested in, she had made that clear to everyone, most of all him. This decision allowed her to speak frankly to him, in ways she didn't do to anyone else, even her mother. Instead of it turning him off, like she expected, he seemed even more intrigued. More troubling, she found each time she saw him, it was becoming easier and easier to just be herself. She didn't like this at all, Matthew was not to be taken seriously, Mary was sure of that. It was ridiculous that he was now heir to the estate given his background.

So when he arrived at the London house, Mary had made no effort to make him feel welcome. While seeing him around the village was harmless enough, having him here, in their own house was more threatening thus she had done her best to avoid him altogether. After a couple of days, he stopped trying to engage her which only resulted in her feeling more agitated for reasons unknown to her.

Now seeing him at the ball, she decided that having him around might be a good thing. She needed to keep her unwelcome suitors at bay, and he would do. And surely the large social evening with so many people around would keep these awkward moments from the past from reoccurring.

With her plan in her head, Mary walked right into Matthew's sight line. She noticed his noticing her, and delighted when it was plain he was affected by her. When they made eye contact, Mary gave him her best smile, the smile she used on men she wanted to approach. It never failed.

Except in this instance, Matthew recovered himself and looked away. He looked away? Mary's pride nearly made her forget she was in public. But out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Mr. Austin Thomas approaching and she knew time was of the essence. He's already asked her to dance with her, and she had simply said "Maybe later." Now it was later and he was trying his luck again. Of all the men here, he was the most odious, and she would give anything to be away from him. Moving forward, she left Edith and walked over to Matthew who finally had taken a few steps towards her.

"Hello Cousin Mary, nice to see…"

"Just dance with me, will you?" The words were uttered so fast she hardly had time to register her own shock. Did she just ask Cousin Matthew to dance? But knowing Mr. Thomas was near pushed her to press on.

"Excuse me?" Matthew looked more amused than shocked, causing more irritation but by now Mr. Thomas had arrived.

"Hello, Lady Mary, I was wondering if now would be a good time for that dance?"

Mary was facing Matthew and so she was free to show her wince. Catching on, Matthew shook his head while taking Mary's hand. "I'm sorry, sir, but Mary just accepted the next two dances with me. Shall we?"

She hadn't wanted to have two dances but she knew she had no choice. "Yes, of course."

As they walked out to the floor, Matthew chuckled, "Well, I guess its clear sea monsters can rescue women after all."

She gritted her teeth. He was trying to get her to call him Perseus but that wasn't going to happen. "Only if the sea monster can dance, which I'm hoping you can do."

He didn't respond, and they joined in with the current dance. Mary was glad to see he could dance very well, certainly better than Austin Thomas, so she was glad in her spontaneous decision.

"So, how do you like the ball so far?" Matthew asked.

"It's very nice. Quite enjoyable."

They stepped inwardly towards each other, and she could feel his breath on her cheek, "Is that why you haven't danced until now?"

She ignored her heart skipping, clearly she was not used to the exercise. "I've been enjoying the night as a spectator, or trying to. It's Sybil's first ball and I want her to have all the attention."

Matthew had an odd look on his face. "Indeed."

"What?" she asked icily.

"Mary, you're telling me that your disinterest for the activity tonight is to help your sister?"

Was it really so out of the question for her to put her little sister's needs above hers? "I'm aware that many think I'm without a heart, but a girl doesn't forget her first ball. I wanted to Sybil to enjoy her experience fully."

Suddenly, Matthew stopped. "That's not what I meant."

"Matthew, please let's keep dancing." She felt her face flush.

Resuming, Matthew went on, "I'm sure you do want Sybil to have a good time, and if she wasn't, you would be over by her side, finding out how you could help."

Mary had to drop her eyes from his. Why were his eyes so hypnotic? "Matthew…"

"What I wanted to say, Cousin, is that I think you are more than just balls and dances. Clearly something is bothering you or you would be enjoying yourself more."

The song came to an end, and Mary was glad of it. She needed to get away from Matthew. She didn't like it when he said such things. This is where they would get into trouble. "If you would excuse me…"

"No, we have another dance, Mary." She knew he was right. Her eyes returned to his, where she expected to see them full of triumph and arrogance, as he had some control over her. But instead, she was surprised to see concern and maybe even vulnerability. "Please, Mary. Do me the honor of staying."

As if her body answered, she took his hand and stepped closer. The next dance was a waltz and so they would face each other throughout it. As they started, he said, "I'm sorry Mary. I know I've upset you, as I usually do. Tell you what, if you want to continue using me as a shield I'll be glad too. You know your Perseus isn't here tonight, so let the sea monster keep the others away."

Mary didn't know what to say, guilt at how he always seemed to know what she was up to. She felt tears well up. What was wrong with her? The shoulders and elbows they were brushing were dukes, barons and distant relatives of royalty, yet a middle class lawyer from Manchester was the only one she did want to spend time, at least for tonight.

Deciding to keep the tone light, she smiled, "You give me far too much credit, Cousin Matthew, on my ulterior motives, but if it makes my sister happy, I will carry on with you."

The rest of the evening she spent in Matthew' s company, much to the surprise of the entire family. She tried to keep the conversation light and safe, though at one point he did get her to share some fond memories of her own first ball. Luckily that was about the time they could leave, thus it ended rather quickly.

As for the family, she made it quite clear to them, in front of Matthew, that she had felt ill but knew she couldn't leave so Matthew's presence provided the perfect cover to keep from having to engage in real conversations and let the night's focus remain on Sybil. Everyone seemed to accept this without question though Mary could swear she saw sadness in Matthew's eyes. What she didn't understand was, why any sadness from Matthew would bother her in the slightest?


End file.
